dance dance (non)revolution

Tonight, I confirmed my dislike for modern dance. I went to the Orchesis Dance Motif 2005. Before, I thought that modern dance was gay. Now I know that modern dance is gay. The dancers must have talent to do those dances, but they are just not visually appealing to my eye. I'm no Simon Cowell of the dance judging world, so who the hell cares right? I do, because I wasted $12. We were supposed to take notes for our DANCE 200 class, but it was pitch black in the Myer Horowitz, and since I'm not Vin Diesel, I couldn't see anything. We resorted to our cell phones for sources of light. I think I spent more time trying to figure out which dancers were hot than writing notes. I'm glad that's over with.

mid oc emotional outbreak

Marissa you ho (or hoe)! You seriously suck (and it's not because you are a lesbian). I wanted you and Ryan to get back together at the beginning of the season, but not any more. Lindsay is way better than you anyways. Now you are all-up-ons Alex? Just because your damn lawn worker boyfriend left you, it doesn't mean you have to pick up girls. Based on the scenes-from-the-next, Alex can see right through you. So take a step back into reality, Marissa.

Best line of the episode, said by Zack: "dude you didn't like X2?"

how stuff works: restaurant edition

So, today was a trying day at work. This has inspired me to blog a real blog. Here we go.

As you may (or may not) know, I bartend on Wednesdays. Wednesday is usually a dull day, but the happy hour wing special keeps the lounge fairly busy. I don't have a cocktail waitress, so I serve all the tables that come up to the lounge. It's usually not too tough. I probably ring an average of $250-$300 on the Wednesdays. Well, today I rang $800. This was almost $200 more than the two last servers on the floor. I was busy. No doubt one of the hardest crashes I have ever had. I started settling my tables at about 8 o'clock. I think every table but 3 were dirty. It wasn't until 9 that I started emptying my float into the money box (I usually have time to do this when I start). While I was serving my tables (first priority when you are the bartender), my printer had a million bills on it, with servers waiting for their drinks. It looked like a bill sausage, like this: -[::bill::]-[::bill::]-[::bill::]-[::bill::]-[::bill::]-[::bill::]-[::bill::]. I am usually happy to see a bill, because I would otherwise be bored. Today, I dreaded seeing a bill, because it meant that a server was waiting for a drink (probably past the 4 minute mark). I don't like letting anyone down, but when I could hardly serve all my tables, I definitely could not make all the drinks. I'm sorry guys.

Why not ask for help? Unfortunately, there was not much help to pass around. The kitchen was once again understaffed and the managers were back there helping out. There was no dishwasher, and without dishes (and glasses, which I ran out of), the restaurant doesn't run. Be nice to your dishwasher people, be nice. Matt came up to help me a few times, but I was still sucking, like a mutha, up until proabably 9 o'clock. The kitchen was a little slow, but not too bad today. But bad enough that my guests started saying I forgot to ring in their stuff. People always suspect the server when something goes wrong. I'm sorry people, when the kitchen is busy, it's not my fault. When I have to serve 10+ tables at once, I can't be their every second to check if you are doing okay. I wish I could, but think about it, can you do it? Can you serve 10 tables at once? Let's go easier, can you serve at all? The next time you turn into a super bitch, like how The Hulk transforms, think about the whole situation. Do I want you to sit there and wait 30 minutes for your food? Heck no, I want you to be in and out and give me mad tips because everything was quick and good. The server is like the messenger, and the messenger always gets killed. I don't like giving bad service, and nobody likes to get bad service. It's just something that happens. I don't think anybody expected the action that we got tonight, I know I didn't. I really dislike working when I have so many tables. Although I get throught it, I know I could've done better. Giving the bare-bones service just isn't my style. Maybe I'm just scared of getting bad comment cards, but it really gets to me when I give perfectly good guests bad service. The problem is that I KNOW that I can give better service. As the saying goes: "sometimes your best just isn't good enough." When people become bitches though, it makes me feel less obligated to serve them though (so don't be a bitch).

Fortunately, I had some helpful servers to help me out through the night. Most notably Noreen. I thought that the "total team" atmosphere was all but a myth, but tonight proved me wrong. Don't get me wrong, I thought that after the five months I was gone, the restaurant would be just like the good ol' days, but I think it is a good start. We have a few remaining "old school" servers that keep up the old school morals. I think we need to bring back some more old school employees to change stuff around, like how they brought back Samuel L. Jackson in SWAT. That would shake things up.

I'm sure I'm missing some of the things I was gonna say. I thought up this blog while I was in the shower, and a lot of data gets lost between the shower and the computer.

On another note: I love it when you one-two step.

you blog addicts

So I haven't posted in a long time, and I've been given some heat because of it. I really have nothing too important to write. I did get my glasses though, they are the Versace ones that I was looking at. Can wearing your glasses make you have to rely on them more? I dunno, but as a kid growing up, I wouldn't wear people's glasses because I thought my vision would go bad if I did. Any truth to it? Well, I don't wear them all the time (hopefully my vision won't get bad).

I've been reading up on selling photos too. The plan is to take pictures at high school and youth games and advertise to the parents about the pictures. Then they go online and order them from me. I just gotta set up a website now and figure out a way to take payments! This business has begun!

Now that wasn't a very good blog now was it? Don't force me to blog! It's gotta flow, just let it flow.

DD (not cups, but 'designated driver')

So I had another interesting night today. I will explain it now with the names changed to protect the indentity of the parties involved.

So the night begins with a dinner at Tony Roma's because I wanted some ribs and chicken. while I was pulling out of my garage, I got a call from Rebecca to see if she could get a ride home with me. Sure, I said. I was thinking I would want somebody to drive me home if I wanted to get drunk. But now that I think of it, only Roger, Roberta, and my sister have ever driven me when I was drunk. I went to pick up Roger and Roberta. We had our dinner and went to my house because I had to change. I put on my brand new eBay shirt and sprayed a squirt of Contradiction and we headed out for Ruth's house to pick her up. On the way, we picked up a bottle of Greg Norman Cab-Merlot for the birthday girl, Rae. Then we went to Rae's house for some pre-party action.

At Rae's house, we did some mingling around. I didn't know the majority of the people, including the emo guy with the emo glasses and wearing the emo pink polo. Some people were drinking, and some people, like Rebecca, were just talking. I was the designated driver, so of course I didn't drink. I kinda wanted to try the wine, even though I don't like wine. Anyways, I did dress up a little to try to impress Rachel. She was looking good in a borrowed top. Now Roger found a guitar and started playing some stuff. Ruth, Roberta, Rebecca, Rachel, Roger, and other people including myself were just chilling on the couches when a couple guys came in. Let's just collectively call these guys "Randoms," because there were quite a few of them. The Randoms came in like a hurricane, drinking beers like a mofucker. This is when the attention shifted from the general to the Randoms. I always say that I wish that I had a camera, but now I just wish that I had PictBridge capability and an 8 GB Compact Flash memory card built into my brain. I could've shown everyone the eyes wide open stares the girls had for the Randoms, whilst one of the Randoms was drinking his 40 oz. Wow, do I sound jealous? Yes. I didn't care about the girls, except for Rachel. As Bon Jovi puts it, "I wish I was him; with those words of mine; to say to you till the end of time." Meh, the night had just begun, there's more time for me. Rachel asked if she could get a ride home with me from the Armoury and of course I said yes. Now with some time spent looking at Rae's bike (Softride), and talking about her bike and her recent bike shopping, I gained a brand new respect for her. Rae is a good girl. It's now about 10:30 and it's time to head out to the Armoury people! I put some of Rachel's stuff in my trunk, and we (myself, Roger, Rebecca, Ruth, and Roberta) load into my car and we drive to the Armoury.

We get to the parking lot and Rachel drops of her coat in my car and we do a mad dash to the door without our jackets on. We hand in our ticket and get two free highball drink tickets. Moving in, it is crazy busy, not! It is about 11 o'clock now and no one is on the dance floor. I go to a bar to drink and/or dance. When I can't drink, all I can do is dance, and nobody is dancing! It's gotta heat up sometime. In the meanwhile, we start moving around. First downstairs, and then upstairs. I grab Rae a vodka slime and she seems to enjoy it. Time moves on and people are still talking rather than dancing (which maybe because of the music that was playing). Then a little while later, Robyn walks in. I kinda have a thing for her too. So now you are wondering who's on my mind? Let's say in no particular order: Rachel, Robyn, and Rae. A group of four guys grace the dance floor while we move back downstairs. They play a relatively good hip hop song and people start moving to the dance floor. Excellent. It's the perfect time to dance for me when people just start to dance because there is still room on the dance floor. I didn't do anything crazy to attract any attention, but I did have some good fun. It seemed like you had to be a grote witte jongen (Dutch) to attract any of the attention from the girls tonight. Another jealousy-slash-selfish feeling from me? Yes. You are probably asking, why don't I just do some more crazy things if I want the attention? I probably should, but it's not my style, and yes, I guess I should stop complaining then. I was having a good time though, dancing with the peeps is fun. Eventually, fairly early, some of the people left. This left a smaller crowd. Then Robyn left, which left a smaller crowd. Rae, Rebecca, Rachel, Ruth and the Randoms moved up top to dance to I Touch Myself. I really wish I could dance to that, but I just can't. I can listen to the song, but I can't move to the beat. Let alone amidst some fairly old bar patrons. Back downstairs now, which the dance floor is packed to capacity (so much so that girls started to dance on the speakers; I'm pretty sure they weren't up there to show off their "hot bodies"). Roberta was chilling with Raphael on the stools and so was Roger. As much as I wanted to dance, there was basically no room. It was more like a mosh pit than a dance floor. All the guys were just bouncing off of each other with their hands up while the girls stayed in tight circle formation (aka junior high formation). I don't remember quite how long I sat there, but Roberta joined me on the dance floor for a few songs, so that I didn't look like a loner/loser. I had a few good conversations with Rachel, it was good stuff. I was getting tired and so was Roger. Ruth was trying to call her boyfriend (often mistaken for the number 1 golfer in the world). I lent her my phone and told Rachel that we should go. She was totally cool with it, while earlier on Rebecca's attitude about leaving was less than stellar. I'm sorry, but I just wasn't enjoying sitting at a bar listening to loud music. Just go upstairs to dance then, dummy! Like I said earlier, I can't dance to stuff like You Give Love A Bad Name (although it makes for a wonderful volleyball warm-up song), and I'm not a Random. Rachel said she'd do her goodbyes and head downstairs. Beep-beep-beep, I hope my remote started the car! Sorry to break of your fun with the Randoms girls, but please understand my side as well. *Mad dash to the Civic*

On the drive home, Rebecca asked if I minded because they were all-up-ons the Randoms. Hmmm, maybe she understands a little. Anyways, did I feel used today? Isn't that what all designated drivers are though, used? Yes. It felt like more than usual though. Enough to make me write this blog which has taken me over an hour. Earlier on, I talked about how a blog is like talking behind someone's back. Well yes it kind of is and I'm doing it right now. And right now I feel like writing it out is better than keeping it in. Will it matter if some random reads this? No, but it will matter that someone else knows what I'm feeling. I probably missed so many things, but that's a pretty good idea of what happened tonight, g'night now.

By the numbers:
# of Bon Jovi references: 2
# of golfer references: 2
# of girls on my mind: 3
# of beers I had while writing this blog: 1
# of hours it took to write this blog: 1.5
# of R names used in this blog: 8
# of kilometers I probably drove tonight starting from my house after dinner: 50
# of times I wanted to leave, but didn't want to disappoint Rachel: 3
# of basic moves I used on the dance floor: 7
# of times I answered a question with a simple "Yes.": 3

bitches

Upon reflection, I realized that I use the word "bitch" a lot in my blogs. I also realized that the majority of the people who read my blog are females! So I must explain myself. When I use the term "bitch" (and its derivatives), I don't mean it in a demeaning way targeted at females. I'm not a pimp saying: "where my bitches at?" It's just a general term yo!

the youth of the nation

Wanna see the status of our modern day youth? Just take a ride on a bus when school lets out. The observed population could be misrepresentative of all youth though, because the rich kids hardly take the bus. I do see rich girls on the bus every now and then though. How did I know that they were rich, you ask? Simple. When a high school girl walks on the bus with a Louis Vuitton bag, that's gotta be rich (I double checked to see if it was real). It was really odd though, her other clothes didn't match. She was wearing a Kappa track suit. I dunno, but that just doesn't work for me. That was like this other time when this girl walked into Red Robin with her (fake) LV bag, and wearing her soccer team sweats. I'm no fashion police, but your best bag doesn't belong with your scrubs. That's like having a brand new Taylor Made R7 Quad driver in your bag full of Canadian Tire irons, that doesn't work. Maybe all these girls just wanna be like Xtina. Maybe I missed the memo on the soccer-game-on-the-runway look.

The other batch of kids are the "rebels." They're the ones drawing on the seats with Sharpies, listening to loud music with profanities, and stealing the ads that line the top corners of the bus. What's worse is a "rebel" with his "crew." The "rebel" will feel more compelled than ever to piss people off, in order to gain their street cred.

Then there are the sleepers. These kids stay up way too late at night doing who knows what. They find the long time spent on a long bus ride the perfect time to sleep. That's cool with me, but it's not cool when you start leaning your head on my shoulder. Damn! I'm not your lover, get off of me!

Items I'm Watching (No Items)

Today, I got off work and logged on to my eBay account. I checked to see how my watched items were doing. My watch list was as high as 22 items at one time, and as of now there are zero items in my watch list. I am a recovering eBayoholic. Somebody take me out so I don't go into relapse!

In other news, I got a call from the girl I wish to be with (who shall remain nameless, and it's not Steph you bitches) today. Knowing how much I love the phone, I kinda was just sitting there for a few moments with nothing to say, but at the same time wanting to say something. The other day, I was just thinking what a big dummy I have been by not seeing/talking/drinking/sporting with her. I have been particularily lazy during this break though, especially with work starting again. It seems like I work, sleep, wake, prepare for work, and then work again. I've gotta ease this cycle before I get burned out again. Now back to the girl, I'm supposed to give her a shout sometime next week. I don't have to babysit the minis next week though, so I'll have some time during the days to go out. Dang, that means I have to skip out on watching Cocktail one day. Maybe I should setup a tune up session with bboy Scott so I can impress her on the dance floor. On your mark, ready set let's go; dance floor pro. I can't wait to get my new camera and lens and get my studio set up all working, so I can ask her for a portrait session! I'd definitely have her in my portfolio. Wow, if she's reading this, she probably know who she is, meh. Next time I'm going to write it in code, then you have to email me if you want the decoder.